The Dark Light of Day Page 89


I had drunk two cups of coffee by then and was fully awake. I saw now that my daughter was decked out head-to-toe in pink fishing gear. She was wearing a pink visor that said “Fisher Girl.” Her shirt looked like a miniature version of the collared shirts worn by fishing guides. And though I’d braided her hair the night before, it was now in a bun at the base of her neck...in the same style as Jake’s hair.

I gave him the evil eye and he just shrugged. “I went to pick up some stuff and they had the cutest shit for little girls.” He quickly realized his error. “I mean stuff.”

“Mama says shit all the time,” Georgia said.

“Thanks, baby.” My three year old had just thrown me under the bus, and Jake couldn’t have looked more amused by it. “I like your bun,” I told her as Jake offered me his hand and helped me into the boat.

“Daddy did it for me.”

My stomach dropped.

Jake stepped up to her and whispered in her ear. She smiled even brighter and corrected herself. “I mean, Jake did it for me.”

“Oh, did he?” I laughed. “I think you missed your calling as a hair dresser, Jake.”

“Oh, I have many many talents, Bee.” He winked at me, and I blushed like a twelve year old girl.

The rest of the day played like a scene in a movie. Jake took us to a few fishing holes were he baited Georgia’s hook and then only pretended to bait ours so she caught all the fish. She’d caught three snapper, two trout, a Spanish mackerel, and a very impressive red fish.

Jake brought sandwiches for lunch and was a very attentive teacher. He taught her how to keep the tip of the rod up to reel the fish in and stood behind her with his arms around her when she had a bite so the fighting fish wouldn’t drag her little body into the water. Her excitement at each catch was clearly visible. After Jake unhooked each fish, he would ask her what its name should be before throwing it back.

By the end of the day, she had caught at least three Eltons.

When we finally made it back into the house, the sun was already setting and Georgia was sleeping on my lap, her grip still tight around her pink pole. She had missed her afternoon nap, but it was worth it. She would be talking about this day for a long time.

She didn’t even wake up when I cleaned her up, changed her into her pajamas and put her to bed.

By the time I got back outside, Jake was propped up in a patio chair with a cigarette in his mouth and a beer in his hand. “Hey,” I said, taking a seat.

“Hey,” he said back. He looked content, relaxed even.

“How did you get in this morning?” I asked him. It had been bugging me all day.

“If I tell you, that counts as a secret,” he said.

“Okay, fine. It’s a secret,” I agreed.

“I rang the doorbell. Georgia answered and let me in. You were still sleeping, so we made breakfast.” He laughed. It was so much simpler than I thought.

Jake reached out a hand to me, and I took it instinctively. Then, he pulled me from my chair and into his lap; he wrapped his arms around me. My head fell onto his chest. “Can we do all our secrets right now, Bee?” He smoothed my hair. “Let’s just get everything out there all at once. We won’t even think about the answers. We’ll just say them.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.” Actually, it was a horrible fucking idea.

“You go first,” he offered. “Ask whatever, and I’ll answer.” Okay, that intrigued me. So, I started.

“Why are you here?”

“Pass, until you answer your questions.”

“This isn’t starting out well.”

“Just ask,” he pushed.

“What have you been doing since you left?”

“Same as I did before, except I got some bigger contracts, higher profile stuff. I consider myself officially retired now, though.”

“What is your new tattoo?”

He shifted and pulled his shirt to the side revealing an intricate design on the inside of his bicep. “It’s not really new,” he said. The design was the same as my necklace, except there were no initials in the design.

“It’s beautiful.” I traced the design with my fingers. “Does it mean anything?”

“Pass.”

“We aren’t going to get very far this way.” I laughed.

“No, I guess not,” he admitted. “Ask me one more. Promise I’ll answer this one.”

So I asked him the question that had been in my mind every day since he’d left.

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